Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
by anonymous789
Summary: The day after President Obama declares the nation saved from the sex epidemic, Butters goes over to Kyle's house and asks him for an odd favor as part of his own healing process.


**Author's Note**

Hi, there!

Earlier today, I caught bits and pieces of "Sexual Healing" on South Park's official website. After viewing the available clips, I was suddenly hit with a 'What If . . .' scenario that just made me burst out in laughter. Also, a quick trip to deviantART only served to reinforce the inspiration behind this fanfic.

I'd like to give a shout-out to Salmagundi-Sweet and thank them for the inspirational artwork. For those of you who don't know the picture I'm referring to, it's called "SP – Bush".

I'd also like to give a shout-out to TEP Redux, whose stories and kind words constantly inspire me to better myself as a writer. Thank you for your guidance!

This deleted scene takes place after "Sexual Healing," but before "The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs."

 _South Park_ , including its characters, episodes, and dialogue, is the property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

* * *

Outside the Broflovski residence stood a blond 10-year-old boy. He ground his knuckles together nervously while looking down at his feet. Butters couldn't believe he was about to do this. Kyle would surely think that there was an ulterior motive present. And not only that, his parents had just grounded him for the remarks he made on TV yesterday.

 _If they ever found out about this favor . . ._ Butters shivered at the thought.

But ever since that scientist came to their class, Butters couldn't get that picture out of his head. And to him, this seemed like the only solution. Of course, he had been smart not to ask Kyle of this favor while at school. His friends would've had a field day, especially Cartman. They had already made fun of him for having never kissed a girl; they would've never let him live this one down.

Taking a deep breath, Butters bravely made his way up the Broflovski driveway and onto the shoveled path. He then climbed up the stairs and approached the front door.

"Oh, boy. Oh, geez. Here goes nothing," Butters told himself. He clenched his hand into a fist, raised it slightly, and then knocked on the door three times.

A couple of minutes passed before the doorknob turned and the door opened inward to reveal an overweight woman wearing a midnight blue dress suit, with red hair styled in the shape of a beehive. She looked down at the visitor to her house.

"Well, hello there, Butters," greeted Sheila Broflovski. "How are you doing today, sweetie?" Sheila had always liked Butters; he was such a well-behaved and polite boy.

 _Stephen and Linda sure raised their son right,_ Sheila thought.

"I'm, I'm fine, Mrs. Broflovski," Butters responded. Out of habit, he began to grind his knuckles together again. "I was actually wondering if, um, if Kyle was home."

"He is. He's upstairs in his room, getting some homework done. Let me go get him for you." She then turned around and walked over to the bottom of the staircase. "Kyle, come downstairs!" Sheila called out. "Butters is here to see you."

 _"_ _I'm coming, Mom!"_ came the Jewish boy's response.

Sheila turned back to the door and saw Butters still standing there. "It's okay, Butters. You can come in," she replied warmly. "We don't bite." She then chuckled at her own joke and made her way to the kitchen.

"T-thank you, Mrs. Broflovski," the blond boy replied. Butters walked into the house and closed the door before making his way over to the couch. He climbed up onto the sofa and sat down as he waited for Kyle.

And sure enough, Kyle came down a few minutes later. "Hey, Butters. How are you holding up?"

Butters turned to the source of the voice and saw his Jewish friend looking up at him. "Oh, uh, hi, Kyle. I'm doing fine. It's certainly been an eventful couple of days, huh?"

"No kidding, dude. I'm just glad that whole sex addict thing is over with and we can move on with our lives now."

"I hope so, too, since you know, we're still recovering and all."

Kyle merely rolled his eyes; Butters could be so naïve sometimes. "Sure we are, Butters. Sure we are. So what brings you by?"

"Um, actually, can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure, dude. What's that?"

Butters hopped down from the couch and briefly glimpsed into the kitchen. He really didn't want Mrs. Broflovski to hear what he was going to ask Kyle. "Could we go up to your room, by any chance? I'd feel more comfortable asking you about my favor there."

Kyle raised an eyebrow in confusion. _What could he want that he can't ask me right here?_ But as someone who didn't like seeing his friends distressed, Kyle's curiosity and concern won out. "Okay, then. If that's what you want. Come with me."

Kyle led Butters upstairs into his room and closed the door behind him. "So, what did you want to ask me, Butters?"

Again, Butters started grinding his knuckles. "So . . . please try not to freak out too much for what I'm about to ask you."

"Dude, what is it? I've got homework I need to get done."

"All right, all right. Here goes." Butters stopped grinding his knuckles, took another deep breath and finally spit his request out. "Could I possibly touch your hair?"

Okay, this was absolutely not what Kyle was expecting. Now both his eyebrows were raised, but in shock more than confusion. "M-my hair?!" Kyle moved his hands upward, each one grabbing a flap of his lime-green ushanka. "What the fuck? Dude, what for?"

"Because I can't eat! I can't sleep! Everywhere I go, I can't that lady's bush out of my head!"

"And what does this have to do with my hair?!"

"It looks just like in the picture we saw a few days ago."

"I-I-I don't even wanna know how you made that comparison, dude. I'm so weirded out by this."

"And I'm real sorry for putting you in this position, Kyle. But I don't know what else I can do."

"Simple: go outside, find a bush and trim it down to your liking. Problem solved!"

"You think I haven't tried that already? It hasn't worked. It's not the same color as in the picture."

"So you're bridging this gap between me and the lady in the picture based on color?"

"Kinda sorta."

"Goddamn it, Butters." Kyle turned around and walked over to the mirror of his sliding closet door. As he looked at his reflection, he reminisced on a lot of strange shit he had heard in his ten years on Earth. Butters' request was certainly in the top five, he confirmed in his mind. As a rule, Kyle rarely took off his hat and/or styled his hair. There had been a few exceptions to the rule in the past (school pictures, fads, Sexy Action School News), but they were always short-lived. But could he make an exception to this? He weighed the pros and the cons in his mind and took a deep breath. He then walked back over to Butters.

"Take off your jacket," Kyle instructed Butters.

"Huh?"

"Take off your jacket," Kyle reiterated. Butters followed his friend's instructions, revealing a bright yellow shirt with an owl on it.

"Now take off your shirt." Once more, Butters obeyed. "Are you wearing a wire? Did Cartman put you up to this?"

"N-no, Kyle. Of course not," a topless Butters answered timidly. "I can take off my pants, if you like." He reached for the zipper, and started pulling it down.

"Whoa, dude! I don't need to see that!" exclaimed Kyle, covering his eyes with one hand and jutting the palm of the other one out toward the blond boy. "I believe you. You can put your clothes back on."

Once Butters finished redressing himself, Kyle spoke up again. "If I agree to do this, Butters, you can never speak of this again afterwards. That means you don't tell anybody about what transpired here. Not Stan, not Kenny, not your parents and _especially_ not Cartman. Agreed?"

"Scout's honor, Kyle." He put one hand over his heart and saluted with the other one.

"All right, then. Where do you want me?"

"How about we do it on your bed?"

Kyle inhaled sharply, cringing internally at how Butters had phrased the suggestion. "Okay. Let's do this." He climbed up onto his bed and approached the window.

Butters watched as Kyle closed the curtains and then sat down on the bed, his feet hanging over the side. Once he was sure Kyle looked ready, Butters climbed up and took his position behind the Jewish boy.

"Are you ready, Kyle?" Butters asked cautiously.

"As I'll ever be, Butters. Just be gentle." Kyle then reached up and took off his ushanka and let it drop to the floor.

Butters was amazed at the sight before him: the unruly, red mass that was Kyle's Jewfro towered over him. He felt his jaw drop slightly and his eyes widen with anticipation.

Now, this wasn't to say that Butters had never seen Kyle's hair before. But ever since Butters saw the picture lady's bush, his Jewish friend's hair somehow ended up working its way into his thought process. They both were wild and untamed, big and bushy in their appearance. The same color, too! How convenient! And the same question that ran though Butters' mind could be applied to them both: 'Why does it look like that?'

 _If I trim it down, it'll look right._

But Butters knew better than to voice this thought aloud in Kyle's presence. Then he would've kissed this favor goodbye.

Butters began weaving his fingers through Kyle's Jewfro, entangling them in his curls. He retracted his hands and then repeated the action again.

And again. And again.

The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration on the task at hand. This felt so good, the consistency of Kyle's curls running through his fingers like that. He then closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly through his nose. Butters suddenly felt a chill run up his spine, but suppressed moaning out loud, so as not to freak out Kyle.

As if Kyle wasn't freaked out enough already. Assuming a position mimicking Rodin's _The Thinker_ , Kyle felt his head jerk forward slightly and sporadically with each brushing of Butters' fingers through his hair. _The things I do for my friends_ , Kyle thought. Before he could further expand on this train of thought, it was suddenly derailed due to a sharp pain on the left side of his head.

"Ow! Butters, not so hard. You're hurting me."

"Oh, geez. I'm sorry, Kyle." As if to make up for that little incident, Butters began to massage the part of Kyle's scalp he had irritated. "Does that feel better?"

"Yeah, that feels good." Kyle would've been lying to himself if he didn't feel some element of pleasure from this favor. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." As Butters continued to mold and contort Kyle's Jewfro with his digits, he felt a weight begin to lift off of his shoulders. Now the bush that had so plagued him was starting to vanish from his mind. It didn't feel as important to him to figure out the answer as to why the lady's bush looked the way it did. Maybe there wasn't supposed to _be_ an answer. After all, how would he know? He wasn't a girl; he couldn't think like one. And maybe that was for the best, Butters justified in his mind. Whatever that bush really was, it was nothing but trouble. That thought made the blond boy breathe a sigh of relief.

 _Loo, loo, loo, I've got some apples_

 _Loo, loo, loo, you've got some, too_

"Dude, please, please don't sing. This is weird enough as it is."

Butters was jolted out of his happy thoughts by a shade of red lighter than Kyle's hair coloring his face. "Oops. Sorry about that." The blond boy kept on with his improvised finger-combing for a few more minutes before he finally took his hands out of Kyle's Jewfro.

"Okay, I'm done now," Butters told Kyle. The Jewish boy didn't need to be told twice. Upon hearing the announcement, he jumped down from the bed. Butters followed soon after.

"So, did you get everything you needed out of your system, dude?" asked Kyle as he picked up his ushanka and restored it to its rightful place.

"I sure did! I'm going to sleep soundly tonight after that. Yup, no more bush for me!"

"Really? That's good to hear, Butters. I suppose."

"Well, I should probably be getting going now, before my parents extend my sentence even more. Thanks again for all your help, Kyle!" Butters opened the door and was just about to head out when he suddenly stopped and turned to face Kyle. "And don't worry, I won't say anything about this. Scout's honor, remember?" Once more, he put one hand over his heart and saluted with the other.

"Scout's honor," parroted Kyle, in both words and gestures.

Butters giggled briefly before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Kyle chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Only in South Park," he said before turning his attention back to his homework. "Now where was I?"

* * *

Only in South Park, indeed!

It's always funny to hear the thoughts that go through Butters' mind! It's even funnier to see the reactions they trigger when they're made known publicly!

Reviews are always welcome!

And as always, thanks for reading!


End file.
